


Pursuit

by GateGremlyn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Challenge Response, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateGremlyn/pseuds/GateGremlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack, Sam, and Teal'c track down their fourth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pursuit

  
_This was such fun to write! The challenge, in honor of Daniel's birthday, was to write a story about Daniel without using his name._

Title: Pursuit  
Author: GateGremlyn  
Stuff: Gen, G, humor, a wee bit of whumpage  
Warning: not beta'd so beware

  
“Where is he?” Colonel O'Neill storms into the briefing room with a crumpled piece of paper in his fist.

“Who?” I ask.

“The bane of my existence, Carter. The pain-in-the-ass, soon-to-be-unemployed linguist.”

Oh. Him. “I think he was headed to the labs on--”

The paper crinkles as the fist tightens. “Lab?”

The chase is on. I nod to Teal'c who pushes himself out of his chair. We figure we'd better follow before the linguist really is unemployed—or worse.

When we get to the lab after an all-but-silent elevator ride, the colonel asks again, “Where is he?”

“Who?” Robert Rothman looks up from some artifact he's studying, his brush held mid-air.

“Your ex-boss.”

“My ex-boss? Oh, you mean-- He's not here.”

“I gathered that. Which way did he go?”

“He said something about coffee so I think he--”

The colonel's out the door before Rothman can finish his sentence. As we take another elevator ride, Teal'c looks at me and lifts an eyebrow. No, I don't know what's going on either. The colonel paces, muttering under his breath and ignoring us.

In the cafeteria, the colonel checks the coffee pot first as if he thought he'd find his prey there before storming up to the nice lady behind the counter. “Where is he?”

“Beg your pardon, Colonel O'Neill?”

“Him. The butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth, irritating-as-all-hell, coffee-swilling, blue-eyed--”

“Oh, _him_.” She chuckles. “Yes, he came in for a cup of coffee about 10 minutes ago. I wanted to give him a piece of pie to go with it but--”

“Where did he go?”

“Go? He said something about having some paperwork to finish before he left the base so I think he's--”

Teal'c and I wave at the befuddled woman before catching up with the colonel who's abusing the elevator button.

“O'Neill?”

“Stop talking, Teal'c.”

 _Stop_ talking? It's the first word the man's said in half an hour.

“I don't care what you say; when I find him, I _am_ going to kill him.”

I'm considering a security detail to protect the potential murder victim when the elevator doors open. Teal'c and I are close on the colonel's heels when he barges into the office of said victim and without a word of hello says, “What the hell are you doing?”

The blue eyes blink. “I'm drinking a cup of coffee before I finish up my mission report.” He raises his mug in our direction. “Hi, Sam. Hi, Teal'c.”

Before we can answer, the colonel's off again. “You're drinking a cup of coffee before you start your mission report?”

“I think I just said that.”

“And I think you're out of your mind.”

“Well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?” His smile fades as the colonel slowly advances to his desk and with deliberate care smooths out the ball of paper he's been carrying.

“Well?”

The linguist is obviously in crisis because all he can muster is an “oh.”

“Oh?”

He puts the mug down. “I'm sure she didn't mean it. I mean I've got a lot of work to do here and sitting at my desk isn't going to bother anyone--”

“It's bothering _me_.” The colonel very deliberately removes the cup of coffee from the desk and empties its contents down the sink.

“Jack, you really didn't need to do--”

The colonel comes back to the desk and flattens the paper with both hands. “Whose name is at the top of this document?”

“Janet's.” Which is not helpful.

“Who else, wonder boy?”

“Um... mine?”

“Yours. And why am I here if _your_ name is on this piece of paper?”

“Because you're an interfering old busybody who can't leave me alone to get some work done even after you've dumped my first cup of coffee since we got back from our mission down the drain?”

I gulp and Teal'c's eyebrow goes up.

“A what?” The colonel prowls behind the desk separating him from “wonder boy.”

“Really, guys, I have to--”

“Teal'c, grab his other arm.”

I peer at the paper on the desk and suddenly I understand.

“Is this quite necessary?” the bane our existence sputters.

“Lock the door behind us, Carter, and make sure he can't get back in.”

“Yes, sir.” I'm in favor of that. And if the most stubborn man on earth wants back into this room, he's going to have to go through me first.

“To where are we carrying this man?”

“You're not carrying me anywhere--”

“To the infirmary,” I tell him. “Before Janet sends out a search party for a wayward I-don't-know-when-to-duck archeologist.”

“It's really not that serious--”

“That's not what the piece of paper says, buddy.” By now we're in the elevator, Jack and Teal'c bracketing Mr. Avoidance. “The piece of paper says you're supposed to be in the infirmary under observation until at least tomorrow morning.”

I add, “The piece of paper says you have a concussion so bad you're seeing double.”

“Snitch,” he mutters.

“A good snitch—and your doctor.” The colonel has stopped fuming now that he's cornered his game; he even looks a little smug.

The “game,” however, looks rather put-out. “Why does she need to watch me in the infirmary? It's not like the three of you are going to give me any peace anyway, spying on me all the time.”

Even with a concussion, he's pretty smart.

“Janet,” I call as we enter the infirmary, "we found him.”

“Took all three of you to bring him back, I see.” She folds her arms across her chest, looking at her escapee. “Well?”

“I had work to do.” He's sulking.

“You can do it tomorrow... _if_ I let you out of the infirmary then.” She points to the bed in the far corner and waves at a nurse to make sure he gets there.

The man with the concussion and the lack-of-caffeine headache grumbles, “I want that cup of coffee back.”

Janet ignores him for the moment. “Good job, colonel. I knew I could count on you to track him down.”

“Do you want me to set a guard at the door to make sure he doesn't go anywhere?” the colonel asks.

“No need, O'Neill. I will remain.”

I smile at Teal'c knowing that the charm-the-nurses, slip-out-the-door peaceful explorer won't be doing any more exploring--or slipping--until morning.

I call over to man glaring at the nurse and wrestling with hospital scrubs. “Good night, D--”

“Go away,” he shouts back. “Ow.”

“Serves him right,” the colonel mutters.

I give the colonel a high-five as we hear another “ow” after Janet's “now, let me check your pupils....”

We hear one more complaint from the pouting, knocked-on-the-head, corralled-in-the-infirmary, still employed best-friend-we'll-ever-have before we leave for the night: “Fine. You can poke and prod all you want, you can shine that damn flashlight in my eyes, but if you ask me my name or my birthday one more time, I am so out of here; I don't care who's guarding the door.”

I swear Teal'c laughs.

~::~


End file.
